Headlights. Lips parted
in a scream, a silent scream. Nothing came out. She heard nothing,
just an eerie quiet and calm. Time slowed down to a halt.

...and
it was like she felt infinite, almost.

And then she saw it all
again, but in slow motion. Driving down the road, music blaring.
Dark. Moonlight and headlights showing the way. She'd probably driven
down the same road a hundred times, to the point where she could
drive it backwards and in her sleep.

She stepped on the brake,
just enough to safely round the turn. About seven more minutes and
she would be safe at home. She looked down for a split second. And
when she looked up...

Headlights. This was where it slowed
down indefinitely; everything had happened so fast that she had
barely any time to comprehend. But it was clear as day now... She
glanced up to see another car, coming towards her...barreling around
the turn...in her lane. She could feel her heart pounding, feel the
gasping breath she attempted to make. Headlights. Brighter and
brighter.

The scream never escaped her lips.

Back to
infiniteness. She looked around and saw nothing but blinding white
light. She felt peaceful, which scared her more than anything,
because she felt as though she should be feeling some sort of panic
or worry or utter franticness. It just...didn't come. She started to
feel some sort of pressure, like the world was closing in on her. She
didn't like it.

Couldn't breathe. It was too bright. She
closed her eyes tight against the luminations.

And then...she
heard a gasping sob. The only noise to fill a silent void. She
realized that it was her, though she couldn't feel the tears, the
tightening of the chest.

She'd always heard that it was like a
movie playing in your head, split seconds of images of the most
important moments of your life. The strongest, and at the very same
time, most insignificant memories. Everything. And there it was.

Was
that where the tears came from? Was this a realization?

She
was trying to force herself out of it. But it didn't work. She had no
time to question or second guess because she was thrown rather
violently into it.

Fourth birthday. She got a dollhouse from
her grandfather. Played with it for hours on end. When she turned
nine, though, she became too cool for the dollhouse. She had more
important things to do. Sold the dollhouse. Later that summer her
grandfather died. She didn't quite comprehend the loss she'd just
experienced, but she wished with all her might that she hadn't sold
that dollhouse. Handmade, he'd put all this time and effort and love
to it, and even at the age of nine, she knew that she'd regret it.
She still regretted it.

Piano lessons. Playing scales until
she wanted to scream. She got first place in the competition,
though...came home with a trophy and a smile. She kept playing after
that, but not to the same extent. It was a good way to de-stress,
even though she rarely did it now. She still remembered that song,
and could still play it.

Elementary and grade and middle
school. She'd been a good student, had made a lot of friends. Lost
some, too, but that's to be expected. She made her parents proud. She
liked school. She started high school and, by natural instinct,
wanted to rebel against everything she stood for. She managed to stay
on track, though it was hard and she became tempted more often than
not. In high school she was friends with everyone. She was the girl
you went to if you had problems, because she would always lend a
shoulder to cry on or a willing ear. She cried at graduation, because
she knew the old saying was true: high school had probably been the
best four years of her life. The ups, the downs...it was all worth
it.

Her first, first kiss...Jimmy Holland in the first grade,
sitting up on the monkey bars of the playground. All of her little
boyfriends and crushes. You know, the ones that last for all of a day
and then, just like that, there's another one. Cole Johnson, her
first real kiss, the summer before she started high school. The
summer before he moved away. Her boyfriends became more
serious...

Spring of her senior year. Matthew Reese. The one
she lost her virginity to. The one that broke her heart. The one
she'd fallen so hard for, even though they were going their separate
ways. She was in love with him. She would do anything for him. And
just like that, it was over and she couldn't move, couldn't think,
couldn't find the motivation to get out of bed in the morning. Of
course, she got over it with time. Matthew Reese would always be her
first true heartbreak.

She was in her older sister's wedding
and became an aunt. She started college, majoring in history. Full
ride in a big city. She knew what she wanted to do with her life.
Life was good.

She met him, he changed her life...gave her
direction. He made up for all the Matthew Reese's of this world. He
was the real deal, and they both knew they needed each other. There
was no doubt.

She graduated. Got a job. Loved her job. Moved
into a small, but affordable, house. Kept in touch with her parents,
those dear high school friends she still talked to. They were going
to get married; she had found her soulmate. Just a small gathering,
that was all they wanted. It would be enough. They were content with
life. She was happy.

Then. That morning. She got out of bed,
careful not to wake him. Showered. Got dressed, did hair and make-up.
Made coffee. Read a little bit of the paper. Walked back into the
bedroom, leaned against the doorframe, and just watched him. He
was...perfect. Kissed him softly, watched him struggle with almost
becoming conscious, then falling back into a peaceful repose. Left
for work. Work was normal, like any other day. He was going to be
putting in a late night at the office, so they met up for dinner.
Their favorite restaurant, where he proposed, and where she tearfully
said yes. They sat in one of the little corner booths, hands clasped
over the table, eating and laughing and talking. They were always
laughing. Dessert, and then, he had to be back at work. He'd be home
before eleven. He wanted her to go home, take a nice, long bath, and
then get in bed. Wait for him. She told him she would. She always
would. Walked outside, arm in arm. Stood next to her car, and his
arms slid around her waist and he pulled her in close and kissed her.
She kissed him back. She still went weak in the knees at the feel of
his lips. She didn't want to let go. But she did. Got in her car. Put
a cd in the player, turned it up loud. Pulled out of the parking lot,
feeling loved and content and happy. Thirteen minutes until she'd be
home. Driving down almost deserted streets, singing along.
Feeling...alive. Getting closer to home. Rounding the
turns...stepping slightly on the brake. Glancing down at the clock.
Glancing up. Headlights.

Headlights. And then...quiet.
Silence. Infinite.

She didn't hear the crunch of metal on
metal, didn't feel the turbulence as the car flipped over. And over.
Didn't see the cracked windshield, the demolished front end on the
other car. Didn't feel the weight of the car as it folded in on
itself, like an accordion. Didn't hear the sirens, the hurried and
horrified voices of passerby and paramedics. Didn't see the face of
the other driver, stunned and too much in shock to comprehend what
had just happened...the police officers, who cringed and whispered
among themselves, trying to keep composed. She didn't feel the
vibrating, hear the creaking of her car as the jaws of life strained
to pull apart the wreckage.

She was already gone by then.

And
she didn't hear his cries, near wails of anguish and anger and sorrow
when the police officer arrived at the office to deliver the news.
She didn't see how her family members more or less collapsed in on
themselves. She didn't feel anything...someone who once felt
everything...and now...nothing.

Infinite.

'Holland Park
- A head-on collision has left one woman dead and another with minor
injuries. Police reports indicate that around 7:40 PM Monday night,
Lindsay McNames, 19, swerved into the westbound lane of Old Glory
Road and struck the vehicle of Jane Ashton, 25. Ashton died at the
scene, reportedly of head injuries, while McNames was taken to
Memorial Hospital and released later that evening. According to
Sheriff William Roberts, McNames was under the influence of alcohol
and had a blood alcohol content considerably over the legal limit.
McNames has been charged in this incident and is awaiting a trial.
The visitation for Ashton will be Friday evening, with the funeral
Saturday morning at Holland Park Methodist Church. Ashton is survived
by her husband, parents, two older sisters, and younger brother.'

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